


A Late Afternoon at the Plaza

by Fabrisse



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-20
Updated: 2007-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:25:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>17 year old Peter has some regrets and fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Late Afternoon at the Plaza

The room was illuminated with fading daylight as Peter lay on his back and watched the man dress.

It hadn't been bad, losing his "other" virginity; the guy knew what he was doing and he'd loved what Peter's mouth could do. It boiled down to regret. He'd never regretted sex before.

Peter gave the man a last smile as he said goodbye and walked out the door. Once he was fairly sure the guy was gone, he called downstairs and asked if he could extend his stay overnight.

When they'd first come in this afternoon his partner was surprised, but the Plaza was one of only a handful of hotels that had afternoon rates, and Peter had never liked the Four Seasons. Of course, there were the rent-by-the-hour places, but unless they took the time to go to New Jersey they were pretty dirty and unimaginative. It wasn't until he'd paid for the room that he realized the man he was with had thought he was a professional and was worried about the expense.

This had been wrong -- not in any cosmic sense, wrong in the teenaged girl sense. For whatever reason, Peter realized he'd been, and he couldn't believe this phrase was going through his head, saving himself.

Sex was great. He did it as often as he could and somehow managed to keep a good reputation with the girls at his school. In a locked box in his bedroom at home was a copy of this year's yearbook. It was the approval copy, and the headmaster had most certainly not given his approval. On the page with the senior class designations, there was Peter Petrelli between Christina O'Reilly (Most Likely to Succeed) and Gina Pfister (Best Dressed) listed as "Class Deflowerer."

The teacher in charge was scandalized that someone had gotten such a thing past her, and all the girls on the yearbook committee were baffled, just baffled at how it had happened. The caption was reset and an approved layout was sent back to the printer, but the mistake copy had been passed around by the girls in his class, the junior class, and a couple of older sisters and sophomores. He had seventy-eight inscriptions, and the girls had worked out a system: a heart if he'd slept with them, a flower if he'd been their first, and a little camera if he'd taken them to a dance or other school function. Some of the inscriptions had been pretty pornographic, too.

No one at school knew about the dicks he'd sucked. Sneaking into a club hadn't been too difficult, finding a man he found attractive enough proved to be a little more difficult. But once he had, he'd gone down on his knees in a dark little corner like the curious teenager he was and done his best. When the guy asked him if it was his first time, after coming down his throat, he said yes. His new friend sucked him off and gave him tips on how to make it last. Peter saw the guy was hard again and showed him how well he'd paid attention.

Once every couple of weeks or so, Peter got the urge to wrap his mouth around a nice, hard cock. He'd go out, find a club, find a guy, and get them both off. It was easy and satisfying.

But.

He started really looking at the guys he was willing to get down on his knees for one day and found himself caught short. The dark eyes he could shrug off because most of the world's population has brown eyes. The dark wavy hair, well, lots of people liked it too. But Peter's list was pretty specific, right down to the well cut business suits. When he'd seen a man in a Navy uniform on a street on the way to a club one night, he'd nearly hit his knees before they could find their way to an alley.

Peter wanted his brother. He wanted Nathan with an intensity that sent shocks through his soul.

If it were anyone else, he could write his brother and ask his advice. Nathan already knew he was sexually active; he even knew about the guys in his life. Nathan never judged; his advice was sound whether it was about girls, fights with mom and dad, or how to improve his exercise regimen.

Just a letter from Nathan made him feel warm and achy with need. He walked back to the bed and stretched out. He was hard as a rock just thinking about Nathan's smile. God, he was lost.

His hand closed around his erection and closed his eyes. Making love with Nathan would be different, Peter wanted to see his face, to be able to kiss him, to wrap his legs around Nathan's ass and feel him thrusting.

Already his breath was coming ragged and fast. He let himself see Nathan's smile, let himself imagine the sweat slicking Nathan's body as the muscles clenched and released. He arched and called his brother's name as his spunk coated his stomach.

As he came down from his orgasm, he decided not to go out again. He'd get room service and write a letter to Nathan -- tell him about his day and his yearbook. But most of all, he'd tell Nathan how much he loved him.


End file.
